Holding Tight On What You Caught
by emileerocksyoursocks
Summary: Sam's been having these feelings, and they're starting to hurt... The front of his jeans, that is. Nonguilty!Dean, my first time writing Dean without guilt about what he's doing to Sam. Wincest, wee!cest, the boys are teens and it's rated M for a reason.


Sam Winchester was frustrated. Stress had made him over-think, and not about anything good, like sex. He'd had no time to touch himself over the week and a half. He just wanted some damn privacy and a night off from being a freak. He wanted to be alone and explore his still growing body, all his hormones begging him just to get away from everyone else. Dad had left, taking his truck up north a little ways to work a case, but Dean had decided not to go with him this time. He loved and hated when Dean would go, but right now it was more hate. He needed to be by himself.

"So, what do you wanna do, Sammy? Play some cards, watch a movie, go out somewhere?" Dean smiled at him, rolling up the sleeves of his red flannel shirt, oblivious that he was mentally screaming at him to leave him alone for a few hours, at least.

"Not tonight. I'd rather stay in. You can go do something, though." He told him, keeping the backpack he was holding firmly in his lap. It was painful, how hard he was, but he tried to keep a relaxed face.

"Oh, come on. You stay in all the time. We'll have fun, I'll... buy us some beer, and we can watch some movies. Anything you want." The older teen hadn't spent enough time, like actual brother bonding time, with him in a while. Usually, Sam was up for it. He wouldn't touch the alcohol, but he'd let them spend time together. This week or so, Sammy had been so off. More bitchy. He wasn't sure what it was.

"I don't want to tonight, okay? C-Can't you go out and do something by yourself tonight? For a few hours?" Sam was ready to go and buy himself a room if Dean said no, because it felt that bad. The denim of his jeans were rough and he'd been hard since he woke up this morning in the back of the Impala. He would have touched himself there, but then it was just an uncomfortable feeling... Not to mention Dean driving without any music on, so there would be no cover.

"You really want me out, don't you? Jeez, okay. Well, I'll go... somewhere. I know when I'm not wanted." Dean raised his arms and backed away, grabbing his jacket from the coat hanger. Sam really wanted him out, maybe he was going to have a read-a-thon, or something completely Sam like that. He smiled at his brother before he left the room, closing the locked door behind him.

The younger Winchester didn't get up yet, just peeked through one of the windows' thick curtains to watch Dean get into the car and drive off. Once the Impala was out of sight, he jumped up, throwing his bag onto one of the queen sized beds and began to strip himself. He moved around the room, turning off some lights, making himself comfortable, always throwing the pieces of discarded clothing by the bed. Sweatshirt, belt, undershirt. He hopped on one foot to get his boots off, falling back onto the bed while he tried. He was successful, each one landing with a slight clunk onto the floor. He stripped off his socks and put them in the pile, mind racing full of sexy and sinful things, how good his body would feel. He was hot all over already, breathing labored.

He popped the button on his jeans and pulled down the zipper quickly, fumbling with a groan as he tugged them off. He laid for a moment, calves hanging off the bed, denim pooling around his ankles, toes touching the floor. He let his hand drift down his abdomen, teasing at the line of his boxers, fingertips slipping under just so, brushing softly against his hipbone before pulling away again. The other hand went behind his head, propping his head up, looking at how his body was maturing, looking at the prominent tent in his boxers. His hand moved and cupped his painfully hard length, letting out a soft groan at the relief. He massaged it through the cotton fabric, slowly because he needed to last this time. It couldn't be just to get off quick.

He had his hand slip under the waistband, and the first skin to skin contact made him shiver, breath coming out uneven. He felt along himself, cupping his balls before making his way slowly down the shaft, thumbing at the head that made his hips arch up just a bit. He felt along his warm inner thighs, then slid back up to his hipbone, pressing down to feel how it would feel to have someone holding him in place. He wanted that some day, one of these times. He lifted his hips and tugged his boxers down, kicking them off along with his jeans, scooting up the bed after. He got comfortable on the pillows, laying himself out. It felt a little awkward at first, but once he was touching himself again, it didn't matter.

A while later, he'd already hastily unzipped his backpack and grabbed the little tube he'd shyly bought from the drugstore a month ago, and had turned on his side before coating his fingers with the slick substance. He now added a second finger next to the first, his tight entrance stretching to accommodate. It burned a little, but he waited patiently for it to go away while his other hand lazily stroked his cock. He tilted his head back and breathed hard, half of his face in the pillow as he let all the thoughts swim in his head. Some were about women, bodies with curves and delicate skin; others about men, muscles and slightly sweaty skin, deep groans slipping from their mouths as they moved, grip tight and amulet around his neck hitting his chest with every thrust.

"Dean." He whispered, gasping the name out at the fact he was thinking about his brother again.

It wasn't the first time he had, and it intensified the pleasure; thinking of those big, rough and calloused hands on him, claiming him, that built body up against his own. He'd seen it today, when Dean had gotten dressed in front of him. They'd seen each other loads of times, being together a lot of the time, but Sam had become more shy after he hit puberty. He'd seen Dean, but Dean hadn't seen him. He'd seen his brother's muscled back, and chiseled chest and abdomen, big arms and strong legs. But never more than that. He often wondered what Dean looked like below the belt, but the closest he'd gotten was seeing his hips when he stretched in the morning. He wanted to know. His fingers brushed that certain spot inside him and he whined, pushing against it quick and hard, hips jerking and twitching as he groaned roughly against the pillow. His breathing was ragged, both hands quickening, all the thoughts of random people leaving his brain, leaving Dean.

The older Winchester was driving back to the motel, bag in the passenger seat, filled with a couple of movies, some of which he would not be telling Dad he bought, and some beer. Sam was always so uptight, maybe they could just relax. They didn't get to do a lot of relaxing. He pulled up in the parking lot and turned off the engine, grabbing the bag and getting out of the car. He took out his key to the room as he walked up to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside.

"D-Dean."

He heard his name and his head snapped up, movements stopping at what he saw. Sammy laying on the bed, three fingers pumping in and out of his body, other hand fitted around his cock and stroking fast. He obviously didn't know that Dean was there. The older teen stood silently in his spot, _this is why he wanted me to go away._ He couldn't take his eyes off him, not while he moaned his name like a chant. He gasped softly when Sam whined loud and spurts of white covered his fist, digits inside him still moving as he shivered and bucked. His breathing was hard and Dean watched the rise and fall of his chest, then his eyes skimmed up to Sammy's face. His hair was damp from sweat and his cheeks were a little red, and he had the nerve to lick his lips at that exact moment, something making Dean like that more than he should have.

"Fuck," Sam uttered under his breath, feeling satisfied and calm for the first time in a week. He gently removed his fingers, whimpering softly.

Dean crouched down as Sam got up on shaky legs and made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, "I'll say," He whispered to himself, "Fuck, indeed."

After a few moments, he pulled himself off the floor and closed the door a little too loud, signalling his return. He walked over to the table, setting the bag down and hearing a small commotion in the bathroom, probably the kid trying to clean himself up fast. The start of the shower was heard and Dean nodded to himself. He'd have a little while alone.

He'd gotten himself situated on the couch when Sam emerged from the bathroom, eying the bed quickly before picking up his clothes and backpack, putting them in correct spots throughout the room. Dean took another gulp of the half full beer in his hand and looked up from the television to see Sam plop down on the couch, looking tired but content.

"Hey." Dean said softly, watching his little brother look over at him.

"Hi." The younger teen smiled a little, then went back to watching the movie.

The taller teen sighed and pulled himself into a better sitting position, taking off his boots, grabbing his beer again after. He maneuvered himself and laid down, head right in Sam's lap, beer bottle in both his hands on his chest. Sam bit his lip.

"M'tired," Dean crossed his legs and got comfortable, "What did you do while I was gone?"

"N-Nothing." He answered, looking down at him, not quite making eye contact. He counted out the freckles on his brother's face instead, and tried not to think of the fact that he'd come to the thought of that face just a little while ago. A part of him felt ashamed, like he always did, but then he thought about it. Who could really blame him? Dean was handsome.

"Well, I see you took a shower." The older Winchester said, eyes moving up to look at Sammy's damp hair, a hand coming up to tuck a piece of it behind his ear.

"Yeah, I did." He couldn't help when he leaned into the touch just a little, but then brought himself out of it. He couldn't do that without his brother starting to notice.

"You smell good, Sammy." Dean moved his head closer and nuzzled against the other's baggy shirt covered stomach, inhaling the scent of the clothing and the soap Sam used. He let the heat of him warm his cheek and he smiled a little bit, letting his eyes close.

"T-Thank you." Sam let out a deep breath, wanting so bad to push his brother's hair back, run his fingers through it and listen to whatever sound he would make. Dean hummed softly in response, then held up the bottle to him.

"Have a drink. Your voice sounds scratchy." He said, voice soft to not scare his brother off, and he smiled a bit wider when Sam took the bottle from him. He peeked open his eyes to see him take a swig, "I have more if you want one. You can have one, Sammy."

"That's okay, Dean. I'm good." He looked down and saw Dean's eyes closed, and smiled a bit to himself. He moved the bottle back into his brother's hands, then went to pull away. His hand was grabbed by another, and they came to rest on the older teen's chest.

Dean held Sam's hand in his, then set it against his chest, setting his hand on top. He rubbed his thumb against the back of the kid's hand, then moved his hand up to set it against his brother's shirt, lifting it up just enough and rubbing his thumb against that skin. He dared himself and leaned in, placing a soft kiss to the soft flesh, feeling the warmth and still building muscles under his lips. Sam let out a shaky breath and he made a fist in the fabric of his big brother's shirt, pulling his lip between his teeth.

"You okay, little brother?" Dean held back a smirk and moaned softly in contentment.

"What are you doing?" Sam's eyes were a little wide and he tried not to let those lips turn him on. _God, those lips._ Dean was going to hate him when he felt him get hard.

"Nothin'." He shrugged a little, nosing at the fabric to kiss a line across his skin as far as he comfortably could; his slightly cold fingertips doing the same, only up, taking time to count his ribs.

"H-How much have you had to drink?" The younger teen asked, swallowing hard as the other's fingers slid by one of his nipples, feeling the soft trace of a warm tongue by his hip.

"Enough." Dean mumbled, tweaking the smaller teen's nipple before pulling away, along with his mouth, turning slightly to set the bottle on the table. If Sam thought he was drunk, or partly drunk, maybe he'd let him do it. He did like what he saw and Sam really, really liked him. So, why not just go for it? It could be fine, and Sammy could have a little victory, and memories to use for more little adventures on his own. It would be safe, between only the both of them; Sam would think it would only be himself that was remembering.

"Careful, Dean." Sam sat up when his brother 'fell' off the couch, chuckling from his spot on the floor, getting to his hands and knees to crawl. He moved and helped him up, most of the older teen's weight on him. Dean was like dead weight when he was drunk. No, worse, because this dead weight gripped to him.

"Saaaaaammy," Dean slurred, "Take me to bed."

Sam rolled his eyes and steered them toward the bed Dean had called dibs on as soon as they'd arrived, but evidently his big brother had other ideas. He slumped away from Sam, and Sam was forced to follow, standing with him at the side of the other bed. The younger teen bit his lip, "No, Dean, that's my bed. The other one's yours."

"Well, Sammy baby, I want your bed." He smirked, gripping Sam's hand before falling back onto the mattress, making his little brother follow, stumbling and falling on top of him. Chuckling, he looked up at him, "Cozy. Thanks for this, Sam."

"Yeah, n-no problem." The smaller Winchester took a deep breath, moving to get up, already hard under the confines of his sweatpants. Dean wouldn't let him stand. He wrapped his arms around him and spread his legs, Sam falling through so his knees where braced on the mattress.

"You ever think about sex?" Dean blurted, and Sam's face reddened, turning his head away. The older teen leaned up and mouthed at his neck, "I love sex... God, you smell good. Did I mention that? Because, _fuck_, you smell good."

Sam didn't know what to do. Push his brother away? Tell him to stop? ...Why? He wanted it. He'd wanted it for such a long time, but he knew he'd never get it. But now, it was happening and it felt fantastic. Except that Dean was drunk, and making him blush more than he could handle, but nothing's perfect, right? Dean licked a line up his neck, along the tendon, then bit just above his pulse point. The younger brother gasped, hips pushing forward of their own accord, colliding with Dean's.

"Oh, you do think about sex. Come on, Sammy. Tell me, what do you think about?" He breathed out heavily into his brother's ear and felt Sam shiver. He knew he was making progress. He was supposed to be drunk, and he thought maybe that was getting to him, seeing this as completely alright, taking advantage like this. But this was for Sam, and he'd do anything for Sam.

"I-I..." The younger teen stumbled over things to say, thought them over in his head then realized he should really stop over thinking, "You, Dean. I.. I think about you."

"Really, now? Mm, what do we do, Sam?" He rocked his hips up and felt them grind to his brother's, and Sam nearly whined at the sensation.

"W-We uh," Another push of Dean's hips had him moaning, and he made fists in the sheets on either side of his head, "We do a lot of things."

"Like what? Tell me, baby brother." Dean moved a hand down to his brother's ass, squeezing a cheek in his hand, "Do I fuck you?" He moved around and cupped Sam's erection, "Do I suck you off?"

"God, Dean." He gasped at where his brother was touching him, actually touching him, voice low and gravelly. He tried not to push his hips forward, feeling like he was going to explode, "Both. S-Sometimes... I fuck you, or we kiss and touch until... Mm, until I'm coming all over myself."

"Let me explore you, baby. Give you everything you need." Dean reached for his shirt, tugging at it, getting it over Sammy's head with help. He flipped them, settling himself between Sam's legs, seeing the surprised expression. He instantly started ravishing Sam's pale skin, leaving wet kisses over the expanse, taking the pink bud of a nipple between his lips and sucking. The younger teen's body arced, back rising from the bed as he moaned and tried to get more of Dean close.

The older teen flicked the bud with his tongue, then bit at it softly, feeling Sam's hips roll up against his stomach, seeking friction. He swirled his tongue over it, and then pulled off, giving the same attention to the other nipple. Dean moaned with a smirk, looking up at his little brother, letting his tongue trace down the middle of his chest. Working down his belly, muscles contracting under the skin, making him move off his straight path to trace, finding his mouth on Sam's hip in no time. He traced the curve and jut, Sammy shuddering.

"Dean, touch me. Please, touch me." Sam's voice had dropped, and his hips were rutting up for the taller brunette's attention, mind blanked out with anything that wasn't Dean. He looked down and watched his brother nuzzle against his abdomen, then move down, drag his cheek along the outline of his length that pressed painfully against his sweats. He moaned, not being able to help himself as he reached down and ran a hand through Dean's hair, then took a chunk of it and held.

The older Winchester hummed in approval, wetting his lips. He started taking down Sam's sweats and underwear inch by inch, "C'mon, baby, tell me you want it."

"I fucking want it." Sam gripped harder to his hair and Dean took down the fabrics, throwing it to the side. He gasped as Dean mouthed at his sensitive cock, large palms running up his bare inner thighs. The older teen fondled his balls with one hand, and took the leaking head of his cock into his mouth. He tasted the precome on his tongue, sweet and tangy, and groaned softly. Sam whimpered, watching as that gorgeous mouth took him in, swallowed him down before pulling off and doing it all over again.

Dean bobbed his head, not believing he actually had his brother's cock in his mouth, testing his limits and letting it slip to bump the back of his throat. Sam made a loud noise, feeling the taller teen's throat muscles contact before he started to bob his head again. He rocked up with it, not being able to hold himself still. Dean hollowed out his cheek and sucked harder, a cry ripping through the other teen, making him look up, Sam's head thrown back onto the mattress, his chest heaving. He moved up and suckled on the head, then pulled off, ignoring the whine as he moved down, just having to try it. He gently took a hold of his brother's leg and lifted it up, hooking it over his shoulder.

"Dean, what're you doin'?" Sam pulled his head up as Dean eased his legs farther apart.

"Gonna make you feel so good, Sammy. Just trust me." He assured, peppering kisses along his inner thigh, making his way to the middle, licking a line over Sam's balls. His brother's legs opened more, giving him view of what he really wanted. He didn't warn Sam before touching his tongue to his hole, hearing him squeak loudly in surprise. Dean held him by the thighs so he wouldn't move away, "Baby, let me."

"O-Oh, God. Dean, that-Mm, fuck." He whimpered as Dean's tongue touched to him again, moving around before pressing in, some give after he'd fucked himself open earlier. He clenched around the wet muscle breaching his walls, and felt Dean moan, gently starting to tongue fuck him, smooth slides in and out. Sam felt slick and open, laying himself out like this for his big brother. It felt right. This is what he would fantasize about anyway, letting Dean have him any and every way he wanted. The older teen's tongue crooked and wiggled inside him, drawing out moans, going hard again and pressing against his walls. Dean couldn't reach exactly what he wanted to very well with just this. Sam covered up his whine with a groan as that wet muscle left his body.

Dean wet two of his fingers and slipped one in, gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of his brother's inner thigh before letting up, leaning over him on the bed. He thrust his finger, feeling his baby brother's body rock up to meet it, "So hot, Sammy, the way you're opening up for me."

"D-Dean, oh God." The older teen leaned down and nipped at his throat, licked along his jaw, then down along the tendon in his neck, skirting over his collarbone. He took in a shuddering breath as another slick digit entered him, rhythm not too fast, but not achingly slow. Dean's fingers were bigger than his own, longer too, and they crooked, calloused fingertips rubbing against his sweet spot. Sam was in heaven. He bucked and spread his legs wider, one hooking around Dean's side, keeping him close. He groaned loudly, and reached up, making a fist in the fabric of his brother's shirt, "Want this off."

"But baby, I'd have to take my fingers out." Dean cooed against Sammy's ear, licking around the shell, nuzzling his hair after. Sam tugged on his shirt again, and the taller brunette thought he heard slight slurping, but he didn't look up, too busy nibbling on the other's earlobe. Dean picked his head up when he felt wet slide by his palm. Sam had sucked on his own fingers and brought them down to his hole, ready to take over.

"Make it quick." He said, removing his hand from his brother's shirt and his leg from around him, gently nudging him away. Dean's fingers left him and he sighed, slipping in two of his own as a lousy substitution. He watched as Dean sat up straight and grabbed the hem of his shirt, not even caring his fingers were wet, and lifted his shirt over his head. Sam was met with sun-kissed skin and pronounced muscles, amulet falling back into its place against his chest. The younger teen moaned and forced his fingers in harder, hips shifting, effectively fucking himself on them.

Dean's abdomen muscles clenched as he palmed himself through his jeans, eyes fixed on Sam, watching the digits disappear inside him, "Shit, Sam, that's fucking amazing."

"Dean, I want you again. Please, I want you in me again." The smaller brother whimpered, reaching for Dean. His brother smirked and kissed his knee, then crawled backwards off the bed. He slowed his hand to see where he was going, and saw he was going through his backpack. He laid his head back as he brushed his sweet spot again, and there was Dean crawling back up on him, bottle of lube in his hand. Sam was too lust hazy to blush or even connect a thought to how Dean would know he even had it. The older teen slicked up his fingers again, three this time, and teased outside Sam's hole, where it was stretching around those digits pumping in and out of him. The younger Winchester made a pleasured, approving humming noise, feeling the heat that had been building in his stomach flip, and Dean slipped the tip of one of his fingers in next to his little brother's.

A gasp caught in Sam's throat, Dean's index finger sliding all the way in and nudging his sweet spot, and his vision blurred. He came in more gasps and groans, bucking and writhing on the mattress. The taller teen was instantly there, helping him along, stroking his cock a few times while he spurted onto his stomach, then thumbed the slit as the last of white dribbled out. Sam moaned breathy and carefully removed their fingers, feeling sensitive all over. He looked up at his big brother and saw him lean down, lick a stripe up his spent cock and give a happy little moan as it twitched, then continued up, through Sam's come. Smearing it around and making the younger teen give a sated chuckle, running a hand through Dean's hair as he watched him swallow the come he'd collected on his tongue. Dean nuzzled in by his collarbone, placing a kiss lovingly to his jaw.

"So good, baby. That was amazing." He smiled lazily, shifting closer, waiting until his little brother's breathing had regulated before teasing his now gaping hole with his lube slick fingers. Sam made a little whining sound, looking fucked out and blissful, rocking down for them. Dean smirked, "I think you got another one in you, just one more for today."

And he slipped two in. Sam's mouth fell open, breathing going completely irregular at how sensitive he still was, spikes of pleasure shooting up his spine. He'd never touched himself right after he'd come before, and he didn't know it could be this good. Dean was careful, slow, making sure he wasn't in any pain as he thrust his fingers and made his length harden fully again. Sam himself still felt spent, but his body had other ideas, deciding it was going to feel pulses of intense pleasure, involuntary noises spilling from his mouth. Dean's other hand wrapped around his cock and stroked, mouth placing kisses along his shoulder and collarbone, biting softly at the bone under his sweat shined skin. Sam moaned and his hands found Dean's hair, holding him there, letting him tilt his head to give the same treatment to his neck. He felt his brother's harsh breath against the crook of his neck, a dirty sounding whisper about how beautiful he was being let out against his skin.

"You d-don't know how long I've wanted this, Dean." He whispered back, kissing his brother's temple, starting to feel down his naked back.

"How long you wanted me touching you like this, hm?" Dean was losing himself a little in what Sam was saying, crooking his fingers inside of that wet heat he would love to be inside with a different part of his body. But not right now, not yet, if Sam would agree. He wasn't about to ask, because he knew what the answer would be, and he wanted Sammy to think. He nosed at his pulse point, pressed his lips to it and felt how erratic it was, felt Sam's insides clamp around his digits. He was close again. He worked both hands faster.

"I-I just wanted you. Just you. D-Dean, oh God-Fuck, I can't hold on, I'm gonna come. I-" Sam moaned loud, back arching from the bed as he came again. Dean worked him through it and gasped against his neck, suddenly not enough air in his lungs. Wetness trickled down his knuckles as his fist milked the last his brother's cock had to give, until Sam was twitching and gasping from it just being too much. He pressed his hands against the blankets to pick himself up from the younger teen's body, taking a shaky breath to feel sticky and wet between his legs. He'd barely noticed coming in his jeans, but now felt the little aftershocks shiver through him.

Sam didn't want him to get up. His arms were around him, holding him there, letting him hide his face in his neck if he chose, telling Dean he didn't care if he was crushed when the older teen brought up the possibility. Dean placed one more kiss to his neck and then suggested that he clean them up. Sam thought it was a good idea. He was let up, and told Sam to stay where he was, going into the bathroom and cleaning himself up, coming out from the bathroom naked to grab a pair of fresh boxers, and the younger teen gasped as all bare flesh caught his eyes.

"Like what you see, baby?" Dean swayed his hips and grabbed himself some underwear, along with a pair for Sam, noticing his brother nod dumbly. He chuckled and walked over, kneeling down and letting the warm wet washcloth in his hand start to do its job. He swiped it over Sam's chest, then down, hearing a soft sigh from the other teen. He smiled warmly and washed his inner thighs, his hips, carefully on his cock that had gone soft. When Dean was finished, he slipped the boxer briefs he'd grabbed up his baby brother's legs, helping him lift his hips so they were comfortable a few inches under his bellybutton. He slipped on his own boxers and helped Sam up.

"Go wash your hands and do anything else you need to, Sammy. I'll clean up the bed." He whispered, and the younger teen nodded, walking on shaky legs to the bathroom. Dean took the sheets off the bed and bundled them up, along with his messy clothes, setting them by the door to be taken complete care of later. He moved his duffel off his own bed and pulled back the blankets, grabbing untouched by their activities pillows from Sam's bed and stuffing them onto his, making it comfortable.

Sam came out from the bathroom a few minutes later, and Dean laid him in bed, crawling in next to him after. The smaller teen cuddled in close and smiled as Dean nudged a pillow against the side he wasn't on, then pulled the covers over them. He leaned over and flicked off the bedside lamp, settling back into Sam, tangle of arms and his baby brother's head nuzzling into his chest. He stroked his hair and placed a kiss there, closing his eyes.

"I love you, Dean." It was just audible, like it wasn't really meant to be heard, and Sam cuddled closer, eyes shut and drifting off.

"I love you, Sammy." He whispered back, placing a loving kiss to his forehead, and heard the small gasp, grinning to himself before he was pulled into sleep.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Sam found himself in bed alone when he awoke, pain radiating from his ass. He made a noise at it when he tried to stretch, finding he really shouldn't do that. He rubbed his eyes instead, and looked around the motel room, bed next to the one he was in still stripped, and he smiled lopsidedly at remembering last night. The pain suddenly wasn't so bad. He pulled his eyes away after that, in search for Dean, not hearing the water of the shower running, or the buzz and murmurs of the television set, or even the fizzle and hiss of the coffeepot. Dean was gone. He was wide awake with the fear of not being wanted, and the depression of no warm smile or press of a body against his. He sighed and got up, making his way to the bathroom, needing a shower.<p>

Twenty minutes later and he was clean, shutting off the water and stepping out, drying himself off slowly before wrapping the towel around his waist. He walked out to the bedroom and shivered at the cold air attacking him, going over to his backpack to find clothes as quick as he could. A voice broke through his thoughts of warmth and he looked up.

"Cold, Sammy? I can turn the heat up." Dean suggested, smiling softly at him from where he was standing at the table. He'd looked like he'd just kicked his boots off, judging from their spots on the floor, and he'd set up breakfast.

"No, I'm okay... Morning, Dean." He smiled instantly, happy to see Dean, watching him take off his jacket before he went back to his own quest for clothes, not caring now as he got dressed in front of the other teen. He wore a few layers for warmth and cushion, and looked over at his brother to see him grab a bottle from the big brown paper bag on the table. He walked over to Sam, standing in front of him.

"I got you these, thought you might need them." Dean said, and Sam took it, a medicine bottle which he would put to good use today and most likely tomorrow, too.

"Thanks." He said almost bashfully, loving having the taller brunette this close, looking down at him. He blushed when Dean didn't look away, "What?"

"I just..." The older teen trailed off and smiled, hand raising to cradle his brother's cheek in his hand. He rubbed his thumb against the apple of his cheek, then leaned in, softly connecting his lips to Sam's. The smaller teen made a surprised but welcoming noise, and Dean wrapped an arm around him to hold him close. Their mouths worked against one another's, Sammy's hands making relaxed fists in his sweater's front, and he smiled into the kiss. The older Winchester couldn't help himself as he let his tongue poke out to run along the other's lips, and he was let in, a somewhat innocent swirl and push of wet muscles before they pulled away. Dean smiled, "I wanted to do that ever since I saw how adorable you looked when you were sleeping."

"That short ago, huh?" Sam couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, the feelings he'd had for months only reciprocated for a night. But he would take what he would get, get Dean to love him when he wasn't drunk or a little hungover the next day.

"If you call that cabin in northern Minnesota 'short ago'." The older teen shrugged a little, and placed a kiss to Sam's nose, smiling down at him. He didn't look hungover at all.

"That was almost four and a half months ago." He said with big eyes, and a grin broke out onto his face. Dean stroked his cheek again, and nodded, leading him over to the table.

He sat Sam down and chuckled when he didn't let go of his sweater. He leaned down again and brushed their lips together, saying after with the most joyful tone he'd ever been able to have at this hour, "Good morning, Sam."

They shared another small kiss and Dean was released, able to sit down with his chair scooted close to his brother's. They started to eat the breakfast Dean had bought from the diner down the block, and Sam suddenly looked up at him.

"You jerk, you made me drag you over to bed while you played horny drunk."

Dean chuckled at the smile tugging at Sam's lips, "I had half of it down perfectly... Or, well, up. Aren't you glad I caught you masturbating to me?"

"...What?"

"Nothin', eat your breakfast, baby."


End file.
